


I Need a Hero

by firegrilled



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Dungeons & Dragons, Friends to Lovers, Hero Jean Kirschtein, Humor, Jearmin Week, M/M, Rescue Missions, Wizard Armin Arlert, cursed blowjobs, princess is in another castle, thejearmincollective
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-04-21 09:16:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14281749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firegrilled/pseuds/firegrilled
Summary: Heroes risk life and limb to help others, no matter the personal cost. Which is exactly why Jean was a terrible one.Jean and his merry band of adventurers wanted the perks of heroism without necessarily paying the price. When an opportunity to rescue a princess presents the perfect chance to lead the easy life, all plans go to hell when Jean discovers the princess is actually a boy named Armin. One event leads to another and both boys find themselves relying on each other in order survive in a land of kings, gods, and monsters.AKA The story where Jean gets tricked into rescuing the boy and saving the land, begrudgingly.See chapter 3 for the smut





	1. The Princess is in Another Castle

A spark flew from Eren’s fingertips. The small light drew squints from the guards by the castle gate. Mere seconds later a ball of flames lit up the night sky along with the orcish guards. Their pained screams echoed around the ancient castle causing numerous bells to start clanging.

“Goddamn it, Jaeger!” Jean shouted, finally catching up to the rash sorcerer. “What part of stealthy don’t you get?”

“The part where my friend remains captured by Marley longer than necessary,” Eren crossed his arms indignantly.

Before Jean could attempt to tackle him, a knight clad in full steel plate stepped forward and placed him into a headlock. “Eren, we have to be careful. We don’t want to risk them injuring the princess.”

Letting out a sigh, some smoke blew out of Eren’s mouth. “No. But we need to hurry before they have a chance to escape with her. Let’s go!”

The rest of the adventurers caught up with them, all breathing heavily.

“Wait a minute!” Sasha held up a hand, bending over to catch her breath. “I need a minute… and some food.”

“We ate like thirty minutes ago,” Jean rolled his eyes. “Take a minute but we need to get going before they try and escape since someone alerted them to our pressence.”

Eren stuck his tongue out and face the castle. “Like they’re gonna escape me.”

“Look, I still don’t know what the fuck you are but we still gotta get across that moat,” Jean pointed to the gap between the gates Eren just clear and the wooden drawbridge.

“Oh, let me get that. I just need to sneak in and lower the bridge!” Connie offered, his face lighting up at the opportunity to break into a castle.

Unfortunately an even brighter flame exploded across the moat. The wooden drawbridge shattered into splinters and shrapnel as Eren snapped his fingers. “There, gate open-”

Mikasa proceeded to choke Eren while Jean ran a gloved a hand down his face.

“Don’t worry, I can fix this,” the final adventurer stepped forward, gracefully stepping towards the moat.

Marco knelt down and muttered words in a language only he and his kind understood. His freckles glowed a dull green, catching the attention of their flame sorcerer. Eren stopped struggling in Mikasa’s grasp, watching with curiosity as seaweed twisted upwards from the moat. The plants grew into a bridge.

“Thanks Marco. Come on!” Jean pointed forward. His group ran across the bridge with Jean leading the charge. “Where are they keeping Princess Historia?”

“The top of the tallest tower, duh. Are you even a real adventurer?” Sasha spoke, earning a scowl from the leader of the group.

“This isn’t a fairy tale.”

“Actually, she’s right. Prince Zeke’s room is at the top of the tallest tower and likely where he’s keeping his hostage,” Mikasa informed him.

“Told ya so!” Sasha pointed at Jean.

Ignoring the urge to hit his friend, he clenched his fist while Eren dashed ahead.

“This way, I know how to get there,” Eren stated.

“Wait!” Jean called back, quickly picking up the pace. The group sprinted through the castle, turning various corners. “Does he really know where he’s going?”

“Yes,” Mikasa replied until they found Eren brought to a halt at the end of a corridor.

Standing in the hallway was a petite blonde with icy blue eyes and clad in dark metal armor. Her hands rested on the hilt of a longsword.

“So the prodigal son returns… with company,” a cool voice greeted the group.

“Out of the way Annie. We’re grabbing the princess and leaving,” Eren snapped back.

The blonde knight quirked an eyebrow, drawing her blade.

“…I’m under orders to capture you on sight.”

Eren pointed a finger at Annie, but a black flash ran by him.

Mikasa swung her blade at Annie, who swiftly blocked it with her own. Exchanging glares the two broke out into a fight- metal clanging against metal. Both warriors made use of the ample hallway space and swung liberally, cutting through tapestries and pots. Mikasa looked back at the group.

“Go!”

“But-” Eren reached out for Mikasa, but Marco grabbed his wrist.

“Just go!”

“Cone on, Eren. Lead us to the princess. Mikasa can handle herself,” Marco gently pushed him ahead.

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Eren nodded. He sprinted forward again. Leading the group up a nearby stairwell, Eren paused to take in his surroundings. Pointing to down a barren hallway, the adventurers made it halfway to another intersection before another knight and a group of orcish guards blocked the way.

“Called it,” the large blond knight in their path chuckled at the group. “Bertholdt owes me a round of mead. No one else is dumb enough to blow open a gate besides you.”

“Shut up and get out fo our way, Reiner,” Eren replied.

Laughing loudly, Reiner stepped forward holding a double sided ax. “You’re not getting through me.”

Jean’s eyes widened as Reiner sprinted forward. For such a bulky person he was quite fast. Reiner swung for Eren’s arm but Connie blocked the blow with two daggers.

“I got him, go now!” Connie said through gritted teeth.

“You?” Reiner balked at the thought. “I’m gonna chop a twig like you in half!”

A loud twang echoed around the halls as a lute slammed into the side of Reiner’s head. He rolled to the side as he recovered his bearings.

“Sasha?!” Connie’s mouth dropped. “But your lute?”

“I got you, baldie,” Sasha grinned. “Don’t worry about my lute, i’ll tune it once we get out of here. Besides I can smell the kitchen nearby.”

“Be careful!” Jean called back as he followed down another corridor. The thought of leaving his bard and rogue against a knight like Reiner sent chills down his spine but he had faith in the two. They made it this far in life after all.

Just as Jean began to recollect his thoughts he ran straight into Eren’s back, not realizing the boy suddenly stopped.

“What the hell now Jaeger?” Jean asked, rubbing his nose. he looked around Jaeger to see a tall but lanky man with dark robes in their way. “It’s just one guy. And he’s not wearing armor!”

“That’s Bertholdt the Black you dumbass,” Eren retorted. “He’s on the archmages of Marley. Why the hell are you in this ancient dump?”

“You already know the answer to that,” Bertholdt replied, stepping forward.

Eren took a step back into Jean, unnerving the adventurer. What about this man unnerved Eren Jaeger?

Before Jean could guess an answer, Marco stepped past the two.

“Rescue the princess,” Marco simply stated before his freckles glowed once more. The stone floor between Marco and his friends suddenly rose to the ceiling, separating them.

“Marco!” Eren shouted, slamming his fists against the new wall.

“Eren, let’s hurry! Marco can hold his own but I don’t know for how long,” Jean explained.

“Against someone like Bertholdt though?” Eren wondered as he sprinted down a nearby corridor.

At the end of the long corridor a spiral staircase lead upwards.

“Marco is stronger than you know but I don’t know that mage’s power. He’ll be able to last a little bit at least.”

A massive tremor shook the castle causing dust to fall from the cracks of the stone ceiling. Candles fell from their stands and put themselves out as they hit the ground. Eren and Jean barely maintained their footing.

“That wasn’t one of Bertl’s spells…”

“Oh shit. If Marco is shaking the castle we don’t have that much time,” Jean swore. “Is that the stairwell the tower?”

Eren nodded as Jean and him resumed their run. As they reached the end of the hallway, a gust blew from the tower. A few large stone fell downwards, causing Eren and Jean to stop.

Frowning at the sudden event, Eren turned to Jean. “The prince is here. Just run up and grab the princess like we planned, I’ll hold him off.”

“But I can fight too!” Jean geatured to his blade.

“Not against this kind of magic. He’s like me,” Eren let out a deep breath, releasing some smoke. “Trust me on this one and trust this spell.”

“What?” Jean questioned as Eren placed a hand on his head. He felt his head started to glow hot for a moment. The warmth spread over his body and relaxed his tense muscles. Before he could inquire more he saw his skin start to fade as the familiar invisibility took hold. Normally this was Connie’s schtick.

“Well, well, what an unpleasant surprise,” an older man stated as he floated down from the tower. He stepped through the entrance into the corridor. “What brings you home?”

“You took my princess,” Eren narrowed his eyes at Prince Zeke.

“That’s your princess?” Zeke scoffed, not noticing Jean scooting carefully along the wall. “Of course that’s your preference. If you want ‘em you can have ‘em. Assuming you can beat me, brother.”

“Shut up and fight,” Eren demanded, his eyes glowing red.

“As you wish.” Prince Zeke’s eyes glowed grey as one of the stone from before shot out from behind him and towards Eren.

Jean covered his mouth as he almost gasped from surprise. Quickly but nimbly he ascended the stairs at the castle shook again from the battles below. Flame and stone shot upwards as Jean circled the tower. Despite being in great shape, running up so many stairs left him heaving by the time he reached the top. Whoever the fuck made these things an architectural necessity for castles deserved to be shot with several arrows.

Reaching the door of the royal chambers, Jean opened it and suddenly felt very impoverished. Purple carpet extended from the door to the giant bed in the center of the room. Dark, wooden chairs were pushed into a desk in the corner with papers splayed out on it. A silver jug and wine glasses were set on a table near the bed. After being understandably caught up in the moment, Jean heard sobbing coming from the bed. From the doorway he could see a silhouette through the canopy in the bed.

Taking a step into the room, the carpet crunched under Jean’s weight. A gasp came from the bed and the sobs stopped. Jean swallowed the lump in his throat and continued forward. The carpet continued to make sounds as he made his way around the regal room. On the ground he noticed ripped apart.

The silhouette in the bed disappeared under the covers as Jean reached the side. As soon as he opened his mouth a pillow came crashing into his face. He stumbled backwards and into the table with wine glasses. The invisibility faded and the silver jug spilled wine all over Jean. Now he’d need a good bath after this.

“Ouch!” Jean reacted, rubbing the back of his head.

“Stay away!” A voice warned from the covers.

Before Jean could utter a barbed retort, his throat choked out his words. A beautiful blonde head poked from the covers, her expression a mixture of anger and fear. Jean’s heart pounded and his mouth ran dry. The rumors about the princess being the greatest beauty in the land did have some weight after all.

“Uh. That stung… I mean-” Jean cleared his throat and plastered the cheesiest smile he could muster. “Princess Historia, my name is Jean Kirschtein and I’m here to save you.”

The princess’ eyes widened. “What?”

“Well, it’s more accurate to say me and my friends came to rescue you. We found Eren and Mikasa on the way here and came to help rescue you, my lady,” Jean explained.

The princess’ face turned a deep red. “Eren and Mikasa came to rescue me?”

“Of course! Right now they’re fighting below but once I activate this scroll,” Jean gestured to a parchment on his belt. “We’ll teleport out of here and the others will get the signal to do the same. Shall we?”

“Uh… I don’t have any clothes…” The princess looked at the ripped pieces of cloth on the ground. “Prince Zeke isn’t known for his… temperament.”

“No fear, you can use my cloak,” Jean offered before realizing it was covered in wine. “It might be a bit damp.”

“That’s fine, that was my fault,” the princess raised her hands out of the cover, causing the duvet to fall. Before Jean could avert his eyes, he noticed the pale chest of the princess and that it lacked… “Oh my!”

The princess covered her chest but it was already too late. Jean’s face fell at the sight. “Y-you’re not a girl.”

“N-no. I’m not the princess. She’s in another castle,” the impostor frowned. “My name is Armin.”

Jean pressed his lips together as his hopes and dreams for a cushy life were dashed once more. he pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled a deep breath. “So your friends mislead us?”

“I’m afraid so…” Armin’s face fell, tears forming on the edges of his eyes. “They kidnapped me by mistake. When Zeke found out a bit ago I thought he was going to kill me until an explosion rang out.”

Jean’s chest tightened again. Seeing the petite boy on the verge of tears made his stomach twist in knots. Resigning himself to reality, Jean stepped forward and wrapped his wine-soaked cloak around the poor boy. He offered a gentle smile. While not a princess, he did at least knock one thing off his bucket list; he rescued a beauty from an ancient, evil castle.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here,” Jean extended a hand and bowed a little.

Caught off guard by the chivalrous treatment, Armin’s blush deepened.

“Thank… Thank you,” Armin took the hand and stood up. His eyes darted to the desk and he ran over.

“What are you doing?” Jean tilted his head from confusion as Armin grabbed all the letters off the desk. Another tremor shook the castle. “We need to get going!”

“Making sure this humiliation wasn’t for naught,” Armin replied. he bent over and opened a drawer. he flung out some quills and and ink until he found a bag. he grabbed the bag and ran over to Jean. “I’m ready.”

Grabbing the parchment, Jean opened it. He glanced over the arcane text before muttering the words Marco trained him to say. The scroll glowed a dull purple. “Hang on!”

Jean hooked an arm around Armin and pulled him close, both of them disappearing in a quick flash.

Both boys were teleported to some plains far away from the castle. Armin landed on top of Jean, knocking the breath out of his chest.

“I’ve been saved,” Armin stated as he rolled off Jean, disbelief evident in his voice. “This must be what the princess feels like.”

“How’d you know that?” Jean asked, taking in a deep breath. While emotionally confused, he was glad to at least have his life.

“She tells me in between kidnappings. I swear Ymir let’s it happen just so she has an excuse to ravish her,” Armin answered as he sat up.

“Wait, you know the princess? And she’s repeatedly kidnapped?” Jean’s eyes widened. Maybe this wasn’t a complete crapshoot.

“Yeah, we’re best friends,” Armin admitted, his eyes falling to his hands. “And she’s kidnapped enough that it’s pretty normal. If you were expecting a reward for saving her I don’t think you would’ve gotten it.”

“Damn it,” Jean cursed falling back into the grass. “I was hoping to at least get a kiss for all that bullshit.”

Before he could register what was happening, he felt a pair of lips press against his. It was a chaste kiss but it left Jean red faced, especially since the sounds of the others teleporting in rattled his nerves. He was going to have fun explaining why a he had a naked boy on top of him instead of Princess Historia.


	2. The Fallen Goddess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Realizing the plan to escape the castle didn't go according to plan, Jean and Armin brave the ruins of a lost kingdom in order to return home... And Jean shows Armin a softer side to being an adventurer.

“Finally got… you?” A confused voice stated.

Armin pulled away from Jean and glanced at the new person who teleported to them. His face flushed red with embarrassment when he realized he dropped Jean’s cloak. That embarrassment suddenly faded after he recognized the new person.

“Bertholdt?” Armin replied.

Jean’s veins ran cold when he recognized that name. He turned to face the new guest who now averted his eyes upwards.

“Yes, it’s me,” Bertlholdt replied, his face tinted red. “Wow, that didn’t go according to plan.”

“What didn’t?” Jean glared at him, forgetting about the naked boy sitting on his chest.

“All of this,” Bertholdt gestured with his hands in a circular motion at Armin and Jean, still averting his gaze. “What did I interrupt? Actually, don’t answer that.”

“Where’s Marco!?” Jean demanded to know.

“The druid? I presume still in the castle. I was hoping my magic trap would catch him so I could kill him here but I guess you somehow triggered my trap instead.”

Jean took in his surroundings and realized very quickly this wasn’t the plains where they originally planned to meet. The sky was a crimson red with three full moons. “Where are we?”

“Ask Armin. And get some clothes,” Bertlholdt advised. His tried to glare at the two but he couldn’t bring himself to focus on them. “I’m just gonna leave you two. Have a good death!”

In a flash of purple the archmage disappeared.

Armin rolled off Jean and pulled the cloak over himself.

Jean pushed himself up, taking in more of his surroundings.

They landed in a grassy field between several hills. The grass blew gently in the breeze, the wind carrying the scent of ash and iron. In the distance Jean could see the outline of a large town, smoke billowing from it.

“Armin, where are we?” Jean listened to Bertholdt’s advice. When he turned to face Armin, he saw a look of utter shock on the boy’s face.

Armin too a few steps forward, the grass crunching underneath his bare feet. “Impossible…”

“What is?”

Adding to Jean’s concern and confusion, tears fell from Armin’s face.

“I’m home,” he answered. “We’re in Shinganshina.”

Jean’s eyes widened at that response, goosebumps forming on his skin. “Wait. You’re from Shinganshina? The very same that Marley erased from existence.”

Armin fell to his knees, grasping at the soil. “The very same. Mikasa and Eren as well.”

“Then how do you know the princess? And how are we in Shinganshina?”

“I’ll explain on the way but we must make haste. Our time here is limited,” Armin pointed to the city. “While this is the last place I want to visit, we must get materials in the town if we want to make it out of here alive.”

“Quit answering in riddles,” Jean said, following Armin as the petite boy walked towards the city. “You lived through Shinganshina. How?”

“Eren, Mikasa, and I were playing outside the city in the hills, a bit further out from these,” Armin’s voice weakened.

“So you weren’t caught in the blast that destroyed the city. How can that be Shinganshina if it was obliterated?”

Armin swallowed a lump in his throat. “Because the city wasn’t destroyed. At least that’s what my grandfather hypothesized… I didn’t think he’d be right.”

“Can you explain that in common tongue?” Jean rubbed his temples, trying to process Armin’s words.

Both boys arrived at the entrance of the city. Ruined buildings on the brink of collapse lined the streets of Armin’s childhood home. Carefully, the two walked through the barren roads while Armin observed his surroundings.

“Marley moved Shinganshina to another plane of existence. The three moons signify the realm we’ve teleported to. We’re in Maria’s domain.”

“One of the three fallen goddesses? How did we end up here?”

“What do you know about magic?” Armin replied with another question, earning a dull stare from Jean.

As the boys reached the city center, they found a building still intact just off the square. Armin motioned for Jean to follow him inside.

“That it can do some cool parlor tricks,” Jean replied, ducking through the doorway to the house. Inside the small house a thick layer of dust coated most surfaces.

Armin made a beeline for the kitchen and started opening drawers. “There are three ways to perform magic: innately, through study, or through contracts.”

“And?”

Jean wandered towards the living room, stepping on a lump. He jumped back and grabbed the hilt of his sword. He released a held breath when he saw that he stepped on a doll.

“Well, Eren can do it naturally due to his heritage. Most of the mages in royal courts study for years to become powerful wizards… but not all. Bertholdt is one such mage who never studied to achieve his power. He made a contract.”

Armin ruffled through a few cabinets until he pulled out a platter. He used the wine-soaked cloak to wipe the dust off of it.

“A contract? With who?”

“Gods, goddesses, demons. Anyone can make such a contract to gain power but it all depends on the terms of the arrangement. Awesome power requires a massive sacrifice,” Armin shuddered, a gloomy expression coming to his face. “We’re standing in the result of Bertholdt’s contract.”

Jean stiffened upon hearing those words. “He… he offered Shinganshina to who?”

“If we’re in Maria’s realm I think that answers your question.”

Armin walked back to Jean and handed him the platter.

“But… I thought the goddesses were a myth. What’s this?”

“Every myth and legend comes from a kernel of truth. And we’re going to need that to get out of here. I’m going to see if I can find some clothes so one moment.”

Armin ran upstairs, leaving Jean in the living room with the platter. He looked at his reflection, trying to keep his cool. Rescuing a princess was one thing but interplanar travel was beyond him. A loud creak from above jolted Jean from his thoughts. He heard fast footsteps as Armin returned. Jean bit the inside of his cheek at the sight.

“A dress?”

Armin blushed, patting the wrinkles of out of the long, baby blue dress.

“It was all I could find,” Armin answered, averting his gaze. He held out his hands with the damp cloak. “I believe this is yours.”

“Keep it until we get out of here. I doubt those clothes will keep you warm.” Jean shook his head. “Speaking of which, how exactly do we escape here?”

“With outside help.”

Armin walked forward and took the platter from Jean’s hands. Laying it on the ground, Armin pulled out the parchments and the bag he stole from Prince Zeke’s table. He skimmed through the papers until he found one and laid it by the platter. Next he ruffled through the bag and pulled out a vial with a green liquid. Armin popped off the lid and sniffed it. His expression turned to one of relief as he dumped it on the platter.

Jean watched silently as Armin muttered a few words. To his surprise, a pale silver light glowed from the dish. He looked over Armin’s shoulder to see the sight of a throne room.

“What’s that?”

“Hello? Hello! Is anyone there?” Armin shouted at the platter.

“What devilry is this?” A distinctly aristocratic voice reacted. The sounds of marching footsteps echoed from the dish until a crowd came into view. Several guards, an old man, and someone wearing a crown appeared. Jean recognized the Eldian royal crest on the guards’ armor.

“Someone is trying to scry into the throne room, my liege. With my wards that should be impossible,” the old man stated, rubbing a hand through his beard.

“Grandpa it’s me!” Armin yelled.

“Armin?” the old man’s eyed widened. “Where are you? I’ve been trying to find you for almost a week now.”

“Long story but I got kidnapped by Marley. They mistook me for the princess,” Armin explained, earning a groan from the king.

“Did they take Historia again? I swear King Fritz needs to-” the king began until Armin’s grandpa interrupted him.

“Where are you scrying from? I’ll round up the royal forces to rescue you!”

Armin shook his head. “No need, I’ve been rescued by an adventurer already.”

Jean peeked over Armin’s shoulder, waving at the group. “Hi.”

“Thank you, kind sir! You have my utmost thanks!”

“But we’re still in danger. We’re in need of your assistance. The Black Mage sent us to fallen goddess’ realm. We’re in the ruins of Shinganshina,” Armin grabbed the dish, running to the door.

Jean followed him outside, watching Armin point the platter at the ruined buildings.

“Shinganshina still exists?” Armin’s grandpa sounded both excited yet scared. “Judging by the moons you’re in Maria’s realm. I’ll gather the necessary materials to try and bring you back but you must stay alive until then. I also need you to carve several runes into the fountain in the center of the city.”

“Which ones?”

The ones in the prologue of your favorite conjuration book. Now be quick and quiet. I assume you haven’t met anyone yet.”

“No, why?” Armin gave his grandfather a puzzled look.

Before his grandfather could give an answer, the platter stopped glowing and the faces disappeared. A frown formed on Armin’s face. He placed the platter on the ground and sighed.

“What was that warning about?” Jean wondered.

“I don’t know but I must be quick. Interplanar travel is complicated and takes time to prepare. Do you have a dagger?”

Jean patted around his belt until he found one, holding the blade and offering the handle to Armin. After Armin took the blade, he followed Armin to the center of the town. At the center of the town stood a large fountain. While no water flowed from it, a pool of stagnant water remained on the lowest level. Without wasting any more time, Armin began scraping the blade against the stone. The loud scratching sound grinded against Jean’s nerves.

A hiss caught Jean’s attention, causing his hand to grab the hilt of his blade once again. He looked around the deserted square for the source of the sound. He only saw Armin etching the stone with the blade he gave him.

“Did you hear that?” Jean asked, causing Armin to pause.

“Hear what?” Armin glanced at Jean and then at the streets.

After a few moments of silence, Armin shrugged and returned to his work.

Jean slowly circled the edge of the square, staring down the various streets. He opened his pouch and fished around for a certain glass vial. He pulled out a container with golden liquid in it. The sound of shifting rubble caused Jean to stop moving. He narrowed his eyes down the street. When a pair of glowing red eyes cut through the darkness his heart began to pound.

“What the fuck?” Jean squinted. He twisted the top off his vial, letting the metal lid fall to the ground. “Armin?”

Looking up once more, Armin looked to Jean before glancing in the direction he faced. His face paled at the eyes. “No…”

“Do you know what that is?” Jean glanced over his shoulder.

“I think I know what my grandpa tried to warn us about,” Armin’s eyes widened. A horrified expression replaced his once calm one. “Maria fell from grace when she dabbled in necromancy…”

“So the undead, lovely,” Jean shook his head. He downed the golden liquid and drew his blade. After a few seconds his body felt lighter. “Finish your work and I’ll hold this one off.”

Armin nodded and increased his speed.

Some confidence returned to Jean, spurring him to approach the red eyes. Magic and teleportation may be above his head, but the undead he knew. And one wouldn’t be a problem. It wasn’t until another pair of ominous red eyes appeared that Jean’s confidence faltered.

The closer Jean moved the more groans he heard. Eventually he stopped when more eyes pierced the darkness. He sheathed his blade and fished around his pouch for another potion. He pulled out a red vial and chucked it towards the eyes. It crashed and exploded into a great big flame. The light revealed more than a couple undead: a whole horde approached.

“Armin, you might want to hurry up,” Jean advised. Upon stating those words a loud roar bellowed from the horde. Jean retrieved one last green potion and swallowed it as quick as he could. He shuddered as his skin tightened. “Showtime!”

“Jean!” Armin shouted. He felt his heart drop as his hero ran at the oncoming undead. Dropping the dagger with a clang, he dug into the stolen pouch and began removing its contents.

With an inhuman speed thanks to the golden potion, Jean met the horde. Hordes were normally Marco’s bread and butter but he’d have to make an exception today. His blade sliced through the first zombie like paper. Any limb that reached for Jean was separated from its body. A cocky smile formed on the hero’s face as he skillfully dismantled the zombies around him.

“Like clockwork,” Jean commented to himself, chuckling as guts and blood spilled in the streets. Occasionally a stray hand would try and scratch Jean’s skin but was unable to pierce it.

This continued for a few minutes, until Jean felt himself beginning to tire out. Even with enhanced stamina he needed to catch his breath eventually. The undead pushed Jean back step by step, trampling the bodies of the slain. To make matters worse an even louder roar bellowed from the darkness, causing Jean to look to the sky. Storm clouds swirled above the city but a silhouette soared above them. Against the crimson backdrop of the sky, a large creature flew towards Shinganshina.

“Watch out!” Armin yelled as lightning cracked to the ground near Jean, evaporating several of the zombie approaching him. “Get back here!”

Jean jumped back in time, his attention suddenly brought back to earth. More lightning crackled and set parts of the undead horde ablaze. Looking back at Armin, Jean saw the boy pointing at him and mouthing words. “What are you doing?”

“Keeping them at bay, now get back here! I’ve finished the runes!”

Relief swelled in Jean’s body upon hearing the news. His joy disappeared when the winged beast from before landed between Armin and Jean. Jean froze in place.

An undead dragon bared its sharp teeth at Jean. It outstretched its wings to reveal countless holes in the webbing. A fowl breath blew into Jean’s face as it lowered its head, causing the hero to gag. Undead people were one thing, but a dragon?

Jean swung his blade upwards, slicing the chin of the creature. It recoiled backwards, growling from the pain.

“How long until that spell works?” Jean asked, trying to run around the massive undead beast. A bony tail swung into Jean and launched him backwards. He landed in a pile of rubble, hitting his head on a brick.

“Jean!” Armin’s face paled. He calmed a bit when he saw the adventurer shake off the blow. “Whenever my grandpa completes things on the other side!”

Jean quickly regained his bearings and frowned at the dragon. “Then I get to fight this bastard.”

Pointing his blade at the dragon, Jean’s eyes met the creature’s. He slowly approached as he tried to find any sign of a weakness. While it missed bits of flesh and ribs poked out of its rotting body, nothing stood out to Jean’s keen eyes. Instead he focused his gaze on the legs and sprinted towards the dragon.

When it snapped towards him, Jean rolled underneath its mouth and torso. He dodged the attack and landed near one of its legs. He unleashed a flurry of blows behind its knee, trying to sever a tendon or anything.

“That’s useless! It’s animated by magic!” Armin yelled from the fountain.

“I know!” Jean lied. He continued his attack in hopes of possibly severing the leg.

The undead dragon’s tail slammed back towards Jean. Not falling for the same trick twice, he ducked out of the way. When it whipped back towards him, Jean swung his sword and cut part of the tail off. A lightning bolt came down and struck the creature, igniting the remaining flesh in orange flames.

“Run Jean!” Armin shouted, just as the pool started to glow. “It’s almost time.”

“Yeah, got it!” Jean nodded. The dragon roared at Jean, not bothering to extinguish the flames. Rather than run back to Armin, Jean stood his ground. He lifted his sword and charged the dragon again. He gracefully danced around its claws and made several slashes at its neck. He continued this attack pattern until it tried to snap at him. He avoided its mouth until a claw slammed into him and pinned him to the ground.

A blinding light emerged from the fountain, beaming into the sky.

“It’s time, Jean- Jean!” Armin shouted when he saw his savior pinned underneath the undead beast. He immediately dug into the pouch and frantically searched the components.

Jean swallowed a lump in his throat as the dragon sniffed his face. He flinched away from the creature’s foul breath. When the pool lit up he felt his stomach twist from the bitter irony. So close yet so far. As the dragon opened its mouth, Jean shouted some last words. “Go on, get out of here princess!”

Armin fumbled with several components when he heard Jean. The blood froze in his veins when he saw the dragon bite down on his new friend. The creature gulped him up in one bite.

“No! Give him back!” Armin outstretched an arm, fear evident in his voice. He held up a handful of components and muttered an incantation. His hands glowed purple as he tried to focus his worried thoughts. He pictured Jean and only thought of him. As if pulling on an invisible rope, Armin mustered all his strength. “I said give him back!”

The dragon growled as its head lurched forward. It dug its claws into the ground. It tried to move backwards but an invisible force kept its head in place. Armin and the dragon were locked in a game of tug of war.

Neither party gave any ground. The purple around Armin’s hands glowed brighter and brighter as the dragon resisted. Eventually the sounds of sinew snapping and tearing reached Armin’s ears. He had little time to react when the dragon’s head separated from its body: flying straight towards him. Armin’s eyes widened when he saw the head launch at him. He froze in place as it crashed into his chest, knocking him onto the fountain.

Water exploded upwards from the castle courtyard, surprising the crowd that formed around Armin’s grandpa. Several guards and wizards readied themselves when a dragon head came flying through the portal. Armin was tossed aside into some bushes as the dragon head flew skyward. The portal on the ground stopped shimmering, revealing a reflective pool of water.

Armin shook his head and regained his senses, noticing the dragon head in the sky. He held his hands out and focused on an image of Jean. His hands glowed brighter, catching the attention of wizards around the courtyard. The dragon head continued upwards but something emerged from the back of its neck. Floating in the air was Jean, curled in a ball and surrounded by a purple glow. Slowly, Armin lowered his hands. Jean gently fell to the ground.

The glow around Jean faded along with the purple light around Armin’s hands. Armin fell to his knees, breathing heavily.

Jean uncurled himself, his tense muscles now loose. As he stood up, he slipped and landed on his ass. Saliva coated his entire body. “Just great.”

Jean tried to wipe his hands on his clothes but found it to be soaked and partially melted from the dragon’s body. He shook his hands in vain to try and dry the nasty liquid. A wave of water crashed over him when the dragon head fell back to earth and into the reflective pool.

“Jean!” Armin shouted, running over to his side and embracing him. “You’re alive!”

“Am I? Or did we both die back there?” Jean wondered. He glanced up to see the bright sun, a sight for sore eyes. “Oh thank Ymir.”

“Armin, my boy!” An old man rushed forward. Jean recognized him from the dish.

Armin released Jean and faced his grandpa. It was then both he and Jean realized they were surrounded by the royal court. “Grandpa, thank you!”

“Is that one of Maria’s undead pets?” Armin’s grandpa squinted that the head floating in the pool, now lifeless.

“Long story but yes. It ate Jean,” Armin explained.

“Ate him?” Armin’s grandpa glanced at Jean. “Did you suffer any wounds?”

“He bit me but otherwise I’m okay,” Jean answered, holding up his arm. Several puncture wounds were visible on his forearm.

“And you haven’t succumb to shock? Impressive,” Armin’s grandpa ran a hand through his beard. He turned to some people in the crowd. “Quick, prepare the infirmary and have my equipment brought there at once!”

Right as Jean opened his mouth to clarify that comment, he felt an immense pain seize his chest. He let out a strangled shout, causing him to drop his blade and clutch his shirt.

“Grandpa what’s going on?” Armin’s face paled.

“Maria’s parting gift. The reason most don’t return from battling her minions.”

Armin reached for Jean when he fell forward. “Please, you must save him!”

“That’s the goal, my boy. Just know that few have returned with such wounds and lived,” Armin’s grandpa warned. “And someone bring that dragon’s head to my study. We have much work to do!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jearmin week continues! As does Jean and Armin's descent into chaos. What's the saying? Plans are great and work brilliantly until they're put into action.
> 
> As always thanks for reading and please tell me what you think bout this and where its going!


	3. Cursed Blowjobs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In order to save Jean's life Armin prepares a series of potions. However one requires a special ingredient.

“Armin, my boy, you know there are other ways to extract one’s essence, correct?” Armin’s grandfather inquired while he dipped a quill into an inkwell. “Blood and sputum for example. Even one’s urine can-”

“Yes, grandfather,” Armin interrupted, his eyes facing the ground. Embarrassment burned his cheeks red.

“Say ‘Ah’ and stick out your tongue,” Armin’s grandpa requested, his wrinkled hand holding a quill and paper. Armin childishly shook his head. If it were just his grandpa in the room that’d be one thing, but the entire royal court’s wizards and doctors? Humiliation barely began to describe what Armin felt. “Grandson, there’s no reason to be ashamed. You saved that boy’s life… even if what you did was a bit unorthodox. I just need to know what you did.”

“Really?” Armin weakly spoke, finally meeting his grandfather’s gaze. To his relief he saw no judgement in his eyes.

“Really. And in the process you discovered something marvelous, which is why all these wise men and women are here. We simply wish to understand how you harnessed the goddess’ power,” Armin’s grandpa smiled.

Taking a deep breath, Armin opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue. On its surface a symbol appeared tattooed to it: a pair of wings emblazoned on a shield.

The doors to the infirmary slammed open, causing Armin to almost bite his tongue. Through them marched a knight clad in an almost pearlescent armor. Trailing the knight was a tiny blonde girl, Princess Historia. The knight removed her helmet, revealing a freckled female face with the biggest grin.

“Armin, did you actually do it? Did you really suck a cursed dick?” Ymir asked loudly before breaking out into a fit of laughter.

\---

In the days following his return to kingdom of Eldia, Armin found only restlessness and trepidation. His grandfather and the king’s personal doctor worked around the clock to try and save Jean, whose pained screams echoed around the castle’s stony walls. Armin dared to pass by his grandfather’s study when he knew no guards would be around. The two old men were either over Jean taking notes, over a cauldron taking notes, or pouring over books while taking notes. While having a patient with Maria’s curse was a rarity that had to be documented, it left Armin on edge.

His worst fears were confirmed when both caretakers fell ill.

“Bloody miasma,” Armin’s grandpa cursed, breaking down into a fit of coughs afterwards.

Armin rubbed a damp cloth against his grandfather’s sweaty forehead. “How long until you’re better?”

The old man sighed and took a deep breath. “No idea, my boy. Perhaps a few hours without exposure will flush the noxious gas out of my system. Poor Dr. Jaeger. He’ll need more time.”

A chill ran down Armin’s spine at that news.

“But what of Jean? Will he be alright without your attention for so long?”

“Mayhaps. He’s a strong one but without proper treatment he’ll succumb eventually,” Armin’s grandfather admitted. He shifted onto his side, his eyes fluttering shut. “I’ll attend to him… as soon as I feel better…”

On cue, another scream of agony echoed down the halls. Armin frowned, no longer able to sit idly by. He set the rag down and carefully tiptoed down the corridor. Much to his relief no one guarded the door. Perhaps the fear of death kept the guards away. Armin slipped in before anyone could catch him.

Lying on a wooden table with only a blanket over his naked body was Jean. All four limbs were strapped to the legs of the table. Whether due to the near-naked appearance or the look of anguish on Jean’s face, Armin averted his gaze and surveyed the room for his only real hint of what to do. Lying on the ground next to the cauldron Armin found his grandfather’s personal notebook. He retrieved it and opened it to the last page.

“…with Grisha’s analysis I postulate that a combination of containing the necromantic rot around the wound, a flame potion to sear the infected tissue, and perhaps a sealing spell can limit the damage and save the lad’s life. Such a sealing spell would be of the highest order and likely require the boy’s essence. Obtaining such an ingredient would be dangerous to say the least and will require the utmost cauti-”

Armin flipped through some of the previous pages to understand what his grandfather meant but they only provided a little context to the nature of the wound. He frowned, contemplating what he’d need to do in order to save Jean’s life.

Grabbing a spare cauldron from the corner of the room, Armin got to work preparing the potions he knew how to make. First he dug into his grandfather’s closet to remove the appropriate herbs and animal parts to create a lesser version of the flames Eren could conjure on a whim. Strong enough to sear skin but enough not burn a body to ash.

Next he searched for a certain book in his grandfather’s personal library. Necromancy was one of the few schools of magic forbidden to general practitioners but being the royal court mage gave Armin’s grandfather access to special tomes. Tomes that Armin eagerly read when his grandfather was away from the castle.

“Rather than contain the rot, let’s try amplifying and reversing the damage,” Armin muttered as he scoured the book for a passage he vaguely remembered. It took longer than he wished but ultimately he found a spell that was meant for more than just reanimating the dead, it was meant to regrow rotted flesh. Carefully researching the ingredients and the runes, Armin thanked Ymir that he had all he needed.

Within a few moments, Armin created the experimental potion. He left the bubbling purple liquid into in the cauldron.

For the final part he searched through his grandfather’s library until he found a high level book on sealing. Armin flipped through the pages until he found what he considered the strongest sealing spell he could find. Everything seemed normal until he reached the ingredients portion of the spell.

“Human Essence: trace energy of life. Obtained from a living creature by extracting either liquid or flesh from the body. The strongest source of essence is that which gives life…” Armin read aloud, his face flushing at the last sentence. He took a deep breath, glancing back at Jean. The hero grunted, writhing from pain.

Swallowing the lump forming in his throat, Armin steeled his resolve. If Jean was willing to get eaten by an undead dragon in order to save his life, this was the very least Armin could do in order to return the favor. “Good thing I prepared extra potions.”

Armin walked to the door, locking the latch so he wouldn’t be interrupted. He grabbed an empty vial from the shelf, sparing a moment to grab one filled with a clear liquid. He set both items down on a table by the cauldron. Taking one last look at Jean, he inhaled deeply. “I must apologize but I’m doing this to save your life… and returning a favor.”

He pulled the blanket off with a mighty yank. Armin’s face flushed at the naked sight below. His eyes focused on the muscles at first, tracing Jean’s toned chest. Sure he knew that adventurers had to fit due to their lifestyle but seeing it in person left Armin’s legs feeling a little weak. His wandering gaze eventually settled on the happy trail right above Jean’s navel. He followed it all the way down and…

“Wow,” Armin mumbled, biting the inside of his cheek. The only dicks he ever saw were either in books or quick glimpses in the showers with Eren and the other boys at court. Not that Armin ever admitted to the occasional stray glance. Having one in full view without anyone to catch him left him a bit awed and excited. Ignoring his body’s natural responses, Armin ran a hand down Jean’s torso.

He closed his eyes, absorbing the details his eyes caught earlier. Despite a light sheen of sweat, Jean felt cool under his touch. Armin’s hand slid further south, passing over the happy trail before nervously settling on his dick. Even soft, Jean appeared bigger than most of the boys he saw.

Armin gave an experimental pump, half expecting the unconscious boy to respond. To his dismay no such reaction happened. He tried a few more times but nothing occurred besides a growing problem in Armin’s pants.

Using his other hand, Armin tried massaging Jean’s balls. Still, nothing happened.

“Damn it,” Armin cursed. He bit his lip as he contemplated next steps. His gaze turned to the vial with the clear liquid. “I’m sorry, Jean.”

Armin twisted the cap off the vial and poured a generous amount into his hand. He crawled onto the table by Jean’s side. Licking his lips, Armin placed his hands between Jean’s toned legs. He shut his eyes as he pushed his hands between Jean’s cheeks. After a few seconds he found Jean’s entrance. Slowly he made motions with his lubricated hand around Jean’s hole. Occasionally he slipped a finger inside Jean, coating what he could with the viscous liquid. After withdrawing his hand to pour the rest of the vial into his hand, he inserted a second finger into Jean.

Jean groaned at the sudden intrusion, not waking from his magical slumber.

Armin froze, all the color draining from his face. When he realized Jean wasn’t moving he continued to scissor his fingers inside him. He continued for a few moments until his arm started to get sore. “I promise this will feel good. I know from experience.”

Repositioning himself over Jean, Armin rubbed his hands together to get both slick. He slipped his two fingers back inside Jean, experiencing no resistance this time. While one hand probed deeper, the other wrapped around Jean’s dick. He pumped with one hand while the other explored Jean. Suddenly Jean bucked, scaring Armin into stopping.

“Found it,” Armin smiled.

Armin resumed the rhythmic motions, pumping as he pressed the spot that elicited a reaction. Jean moaned loudly, a much lewder sound than the pained screams from before. Armin’s face flushed red as his blood traveled to the tent in his pants. The fact Jean couldn’t see him like this made him feel so much better… though the thought of being caught only made him harder.

Jean’s cock slowly hardened under Armin’s touch. By the time Jean reached full mast, Armin’s muscles were sore. Still, the sight made Armin proud. He made this happen, though he needed to finish it off.

Frowning at the next idea, Armin quickly shook the fearful thoughts from his mind. He had to do this. For Jean.

He lowered his head towards Jean’s dick. Shallow breaths escaped him, barely cooling the heat emanating from Jean. With a tentative lick, Armin tasted the tip and some of Jean’s pre. Where he expected bitterness, he only found a tasteless warmth.

“Interesting,” Armin commented before going down on Jean.

He wrapped his lips around Jean’s cock, testing how far he could take. By the time Jean’s dick reach the back of his mouth, Armin realized he wasn’t even all the down on the hero. This would have to do though. He began bobbing his head up and down while his other hand pressed back into the hero. It took him a little before he regained his earlier rhythm.

Jean bucked into Armin’s mouth, almost gagging the boy but Armin withstood the urge. Moans escaped the unconscious hero. They grew louder and more frequent causing Armin’s lips to curl into a smile. Or at least as much of a smile as he could muster with Jean’s cock in his mouth.

When he felt Jean stiffen underneath him, Armin almost swallowed from surprise the sudden burst of cum in his mouth. There was the bitter taste he expected. Jean let out the loudest moan yet, unloading a week’s worth of pent up stress into Armin’s mouth.

Armin withdrew his hand but kept his lips locked around the dick until he felt it stop spasming. Blindly reaching for the table, Armin pawed around the surface until he found the empty bottle. He brought the bottle under his lips and opened his mouth, letting the cum slowly fill the container. The thought of someone watching this process brought a dark blush to Armin’s face. Once his mouth was empty and the embarrassment passed, Armin set the container down on the table and climbed down from the table.

He walked over to the cabinet to find another empty jar and set it on the ground.

Armin pulled his pants down to free his dick, taking a seat next to the empty jar. He rubbed a slick hand around his needy cock. The front of his pants already had a wet spot that he didn’t want to explain to anyone but he didn’t have the time to worry about that. The very act of blowing Jean already left him on edge.

“Fuck,” Armin muttered, feeling a coil forming in his belly. A few strokes from his hand, coated in a mixture of lubricant and Jean’s cum gave Armin the much needed stimulation. He grabbed the jar and brought it in front of his dick. His body stiffened from the pleasure, releasing a few white ropes into the glass.

An intense euphoria left Armin breathing heavily, leaning against the bookshelf. It wasn’t until his tongue started tingling that his senses returned to him. He quickly pushed himself up, struggling to not fall from his wobbly legs. Pulling his pants up he stumbled to the cauldron and poured the contents of the cauldron into the jar of his cum. He swirled the dark purple mixture for a few seconds before the burning in his mouth almost reached a painful peak. Throwing caution to the wind he chugged the potion.

Armin fell to his knees, gagging on the mixture. His taste buds barely registered the disgusting taste, instead focusing on the burning feeling going down his throat. He couldn’t let this pain cripple him. With an intense focus, Armin forced himself to reach the table and grabbed the container of Jean’s cum. He crawled back to the cauldron and poured the remainder into that jar. While he swirled that, the pain in his body faded. Now euphoria buzzed around his head.

Rising to his feet, Armin walked over to Jean. He hovered over the hero’s injured arm and poured the potion onto the wounds. The purple liquid bubbled and burned, causing Jean to howl out once more.

“Stay strong, just a little more,” Armin encouraged the unconscious hero. He rubbed the liquid into the wounds and ignored the burning sensation on his hands. Next, Armin lifted Jean’s head and poured the remainder of the liquid into Jean’s mouth. Doing his best to make sure the hero didn’t choke, he patiently waited for Jean to swallow the contents of the jar. Once he was done with that, Armin returned to the cauldron and stuck his hands in here. He washed his hands in the liquid and made sure to rub some on his dick. “There, sanitized.”

Armin smiled, proud of his work. He glanced back at Jean’s arm and already noticed the wounds closing. Content with that sign, he walked to the door and unlocked. Just as he opened the door, the euphoria in his head faded. A heavy weight hit his mind and everything went black. The last words he heard as fainted were the sounds of rushing footsteps.

When he came to, he found himself in front of his grandpa and the other educators of the castle in the infirmary.

\---

“Y-Y-Yes…” Armin admitted, humiliation returning to his mind. “I wanted to use the most powerful sealing spell… and it said the strongest essence came from the one that gave life.”

A few hushed whispers around the room left Armin stewing in his embarrassment, and the howls of laughter from Ymir did little to temper that reaction.

“Ymir, stop it! He saved the guy who rescued him,” Historia elbowed the knight.

“I know… I know… It’s just- that’s hysterical. Oh my goodness, that’s the best thing I’ve heard in ages,” Ymir wiped tears from her eyes.

“Armin, my boy. What that tome referenced was blood. Blood is what gives life,” Armin’s grandpa rubbed his beard, further sending Armin into denial. “Though I must admit the properties of… semen aren’t well known. And now we have further cause for research.”

“But, Lord Arlert,” One of the wizards spoke. “He openly admitted to using a necromantic potion as well. Isn’t that a cause for alarm?”

More hushed voices echoed around the room, most sounding of disapproval.

“Quiet. One thing at a time,” Armin’s grandpa shook his head. “While frowned upon, using the fallen goddess’ own magic against itself was intuitive and probably what allowed for this miraculous event to take place. None of us would’ve thought of that.”

“For good reason-”

“I said hush. We’ll cross that bridge later,” Armin’s grandpa raised a wrinkled finger, silencing the room.

“What’s going on, grandpa?” Armin wondered, still unsure why so many people came to see him as he awoke.

“Well, it’s hard to say but Jean’s been awake for some time now. You’ve been asleep for almost a week. And it seems whatever ritual you performed has… what’s a good way to put this? You’ve unlocked a new unknown power within him. I suspect the same can be said of yourself since you ingested cursed semen.”

Armin shuddered at that phrasing. “Please don’t use those words.”

“But Armin, my boy-”

“Just… what do you mean by power?”

Armin’s grandpa scratched his head before shrugging. “I can’t quite say. Jean is stronger than ever, successfully dueling our strongest knights into submission in mere moves. As for yourself… well.”

The old man as well as the other wizards in the room looked upwards, causing Armin to glance in that direction. His eyes widened when he saw a hole in the stone ceiling, extending through several floors. “Wh-what happened?!”

“You, my boy. You seem to have inherited some new power and I suspect that seal on your tongue has something to do with it. For now we’ll let you rest as you’ve filled in the blanks. Please, just rest and recover.”

Armin nodded at those words, feeling a sudden tiredness wash over his body. Ymir and Historia ran to his side while the older men and women left the room.

Once the crowd was outside, one of the wizards closed the door.

“Archmage Arlert, you know the price of necromancy,” one of the wizards stated.

Taking a deep breath, Armin’s grandpa wiped a tear away from his eyes. “I know but let the boy rest. He’ll deal with the consequences in the morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so this story continues and we earn our E rating :D
> 
> It's been a while since I wrote smut so I hope it was fun and exciting to read. Even if it is one sided with Armin this time. Humor nd smut for everyone!
> 
> As always, all feedback is appreciated and brightens my day. Thanks for reading!


	4. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite earning the praise of a kingdom, Armin learns the price of breaking tradition in order to save Jean.

“Please come forward, Jean Kirschtein,” the King of Eldia beckoned.

Doing as requested, Jean stepped down from the gallery of the throne room. He descended the marble white stairs taking small steps. The clothes of nobles and royalty were far more constricting than what Jean wore into battle. The tight pants, ruffled shirt, and cape were a bit much but Archmage Arlert insisted on such attire for the event.

“Jean Kirschtein, I owe you an immense debt for saving the life of my grandson,” Armin’s grandpa spoke, standing next to the throne.

“It’s what I do, sir,” Jean smirked. His eyes glanced around the crowd for the blond boy he mistakenly saved. Last time he saw Armin was in the courtyard after they escaped Maria’s realm.

“But you’ve done so much more,” Archmage Arlert continued. “You’ve expanded our understanding of magic to new horizons thanks to the dragon skull you retrieved and your miraculous recovery.”

A chill ran down Jean’s spine at the mention of his sickness. He unconsciously scratched his forearm above the wounds he sustained.

“I believe I have you to thank for that,” Jean faced forward.

Armin’s grandfather chuckled at the notion.

“My notes perhaps but you must thank my grandson for the treatment. He created and performed the treatment that allowed for your full recovery.”

All the heads in the room turned towards a corner. Jean followed the crowd and saw Armin standing beside a female knight in pearlescent armor and another petite blonde in a pink dress. Jean did a double take before realizing that was the princess. If he were looking at a glance he would’ve mistaken Armin and the princess for each other. That explained the mix up at the castle. Jean offered Armin a gentle smile.

Armin averted his gaze, his face flushed pink.

“And for your heroism and magical contributions we wish to bestow an award worthy of such deeds,” King Reiss gestured to another wizard. “Nile, if you would.”

From the back of the room, a man with wispy facial hair came forward. In his hands he clutched an object wrapped in a purple velvet cloth. Nile knelt at Jean’s side, presenting the long but narrow package.

Tilting his head in confusion, Jean grabbed a corner of the fabric. His heart raced from excitement while his mind made wild guesses. When he pulled his hand back, his body froze.

“No way,” Jean commented, picking up a sword. He unsheathed it, revealing a pristine white metal blade. Compared to his normal sword it felt incredibly light. It almost felt like an energy pulsed from it.

“Made from the neck of the very beast that ate you, we crafted this fine dragonbone blade,” Archmage Arlert pointed with a shaky finger. “Its magical properties aren’t entirely understood but it’s stronger and sharper than any common or enchanted weapon.”

“Thank you, truly,” Jean smiled from ear to ear.

“And of course there will be payment and talks of gifting you land but that will be sorted after the ceremony.”

“Assuming you’d like to join the guard,” A tall blond man in plate mail shrugged. “Your skill with a blade has been proven as of recent.”

“Later, later, Erwin,” the king waved his hand in the air. “Next up is Armin, please step forward.”

Jean continued smiling widely at the new blade, walking past Armin and taking a spot by the princess and the knight. He looked away from the blade briefly to meet Armin’s nervous eyes. A pang of hurt went through Jean’s chest when Armin chose to look at the floor instead.

Armin walked forward, wearing a baby blue shirt and tight black pants. A lump formed in his throat as all eyes in the room fell on him. While he couldn’t hear their words he could feel the disdain around him.

“Armin, my boy,” his grandfather began, his voice deeper and more formal. “You took the princess’ place in a kidnapping, recovered valuable intelligence on Marley, survived a trip to a fallen goddess’ realm, brought back a fell dragon’s skull, and most importantly, cured a hero with a venomous curse. These are all deeds that scholars dream of achieving. Your work is astonishing and will be studied for generations to come.”

Hearing those words of praise from his grandpa brought an uneasy smile to his face.

“Thank you, sir,” Armin bowed his head, his voice low.

“For such deeds you’ll also be handsomely rewarded,” Armin’s grandpa gestured for Nile to come forward. Unlike with Jean, Nile didn’t kneel and simply handed Armin a dagger and white bracelet. “A bracelet and weapon forged from the bones of the very beast you decapitated. As with Jean’s blade, their properties remain unknown but I have no doubt a scholar and accomplished wizard such as yourself will have no trouble studying them.”

“But a crime is a crime, nonetheless,” Nile narrowed his eyes at Armin, walking back to the throne. He stood on the opposite side of the throne as Armin’s grandfather. “You violated the sacred laws and customs of this kingdom.”

A low murmuring hung over the room, drawing Jean’s attention. The festive mood was replaced by an air of discontent. The king’s kind expression gave away to a stern one while Archmage Arlert bore a somber look.

Quietly poking the knight next to him Jean asked, “What’s going on?”

Ymir frowned, glaring at the king and the crowd in the room. Historia grasped Ymir’s hand for support.

“The old codgers are about to fuck him over, that’s what,” Ymir mumbled back.

“Armin, by your own admission you used necromancy,” King Reiss stated. “Do you disagree?”

Squeezing a hand around the dagger’s handle, Armin closed his eyes.

“No, your majesty,” he answered.

The gathered crowd broke out in loud conversation, their disdain more apparent than before.

“Father, don’t!” Historia interjected. “It wasn’t true necromancy!”

“Historia, please refrain from interrupting,” King Reiss sighed. “But is this true?”

“Necromancy is necromancy!” Nile answered.

“Shush, Nile,” King Reiss raised his hand. “Archmage?”

“Technically speaking, what Armin created was a potion rooted in necromancy in order to heal Jean and himself. While not the necromancy we’re used to seeing, it’s the same school of forbidden magic. He found the spell in one of my forbidden tomes…” Armin’s grandfather explained, his voice straining with the words. “He inverted the nature of the curse with it.”

More murmuring around the court replaced the silence while the king mulled over the facts. When he reached a decision, he raised a hand silence returned.

“While you used necromancy to save a life, the laws of the land are clear,” King Reiss began, bearing a sullen face. “Archmage Arlert…”

Armin’s face went ghost white as his grandfather produced a scroll. His hands fell to his side and he pressed his lips together, though they still trembled along with his frame. Blinking back the tears forming in his eyes, Armin tried to keep his composure.

“Per the customs of our ancestors, those caught performing, practicing, or otherwise using necromancy will relinquish all holdings, renounce all claims to inheritance, face banishment, and be branded with a title befitting the crimes,” Armin’s grandfather read with a stoic voice.

“Grandpa,” Armin muttered, falling to his knees.

“Banishment?!” Jean scoffed.

“Shut up,” Ymir advised.

“No, this is bullshit,” Jean muttered back to her.

“Do you understand the gravity of your offense, Armin?” Nile asked. “Tampering with magic that can corrupt even the gods isn’t something that can be taken lightly.”

“Maybe but Jean’s alive, isn’t he?” Armin snapped back, tears in his eyes. “I’m no necromancer but you’re a fool to think I regret what I did. We must understand all aspects of magic if we wish to live to our fullest potential. If this is the price I pay for saving a life, so be it.”

Armin’s indignant reply garnered more whispers from the crowd. To Jean’s surprise, it was a mixed reaction.

Wonder and admiration for the boy replaced Jean’s anger. While he didn’t completely understand what Armin said it sounded like he just told the prick to fuck off in an educated sort of way. A tiny smile formed on his face.

Nile’s face scrunched as anger boiled through his body. “You regret nothing? Then you’ve learned nothing. My liege, I suggest he be branded with the title of the Black, as is reserved for most necromancers.”

Armin’s eyes widened at the suggestion. Nile wanted him to bear the same title as Bertholdt.

“That’s quite the suggestion, Nile. What say you Archmage?” King Reiss rubbed his chin.

“The Black feels quite harsh for one potion and diminishes the weight of the title,” Armin’s grandpa disagreed, a bit taken back by the thought. “I’ve pondered it and I think the Fuchsia or the Grey are more deserving.”

“Of course you’d suggest lesser titles but what he did was unforgivable!” Nile squinted at Armin’s grandpa. “A title must reflect the nature of the heinous deed.”

While the older men squabbled, Historia stepped forward.

“Princess!” Ymir reached out for her but dared not move.

The men by the throne stopped their conversation while Historia knelt by her friend’s side. She brought a handkerchief to his face, drying the tears before they fell. Armin slowly turned to meet her gaze, finding familiarity and compassion.

“Might I suggest the White?” Historia offered, earning a few gasps.

“Preposterous,” Nile vehemently shook his head. “How could a necromancer earn the title of the White?”

“It’s a title reserved for those who selflessly sacrifice everything for the benefit of another, correct? By that definition Armin has given up everything to save one stranger. For him to bear the same title as ones who massacre kingdoms for self-gain would be a disservice to the deed he performed.”

“By your logic any necromancer could be called the White. There’s a reason it’s a title for only the most esteemed and only achieved after death!” Nile protested.

“Tell me, sir, how many necromancers knowingly sacrifice all wealth, position, inheritance, and everything they’ve ever known to save a stranger?”

Nile raised a hand and opened his mouth, but he spoke no words.

King Reiss shook his head, smiling. “Ymir help me for doing this… but my daughter has a point. As per the law of the land, Armin shall receive a title befitting the crime. For using necromancy to save the life of a hero, forsaking all you know and love in the process, I brand you, Armin, the White. You’re hereby banished from Eldia effective immediately. Everyone is dismissed until the festival this evening. Captain Smith, please escort Armin out of the city.”

Armin remained on the ground as loud metal footsteps clanged towards him. He bit his trembling lip while everyone exited the room. He dared only to meet his grandfather’s gaze one last time. To his surprise he saw the man crying, yet smiling. Was his grandfather proud of him?

Reaching a hand out for his only living relative, Armin muttered, “Grandpa…”

After the room emptied, a firm hand brought Armin to his feet.

“You’re allowed to keep anything acquired after the deed was done. The clothes on your back and your rewards for the kingdom are yours,” Erwin stated.

Armin nodded, slipping the bracelet on and pocketing the dagger.

As he marched out the door of the castle, Armin’s porcelain façade finally shattered. Sobs wracked his body while he walked, hanging his head as tears streamed down his face. Eldia was the second home taken from him. Everything, everyone he knew he had to leave behind. The very thought of losing what amounted to his life left him feeling hollow.

Despite the emotions racing through his mind, he couldn’t bring himself to regret what he did. If given the choice to keep all the he knew and cherished or let Jean die, he’d do it all again. Except maybe draw Jean’s blood instead of give him a blowjob.

“At least I got that memory,” Armin mumbled to himself, bringing a slight smile to his face.

“For the record, Armin,” Captain Smith stated as they walked. Armin looked at Erwin who continued to face forward. “I believe you did the right thing. Wear that title as a badge of honor for very few have earned it.”

“Thank you, sir,” Armin replied, taking a deep breath. His voice cracked as he spoke.

“You still have your friends, that they can’t take away,” Erwin mentioned as they reached the gate.

Armin nodded though that did bring a back a worrying fact. “I’ve been meaning to ask, have we heard from Eren or Mikasa?”

“Aye, I’m afraid we have,” Erwin frowned. Armin’s blood ran cold at that wording. “We have reports that soldiers matching their description are marching in Marley’s army along with others that describe Jean’s companions. Other soldiers of ours are also seen amongst their ranks.”

“Their army? But that makes no sense,” Armin chewed on his lip. “Dark magic perhaps.”

“Perhaps but our scouts mention a group of them heading for Trost. But you never heard this from me,” Erwin shrugged as he turned around. “Take care, and may our paths cross again under better circumstances.”

Finally left alone at the gates, Armin glanced back at the city he called his home for the last decade. With a heavy heart he turned his back on it and stepped forward. Silent tears streaked down his face once more as he tried to recall the nearest town. He’d studied the geography of the continent time and time again but he couldn’t muster the thought with how confused he felt. He managed to make it a small ways from the city before collapsing to his knees and letting the tears fall again.

Soft footsteps trailed the poor wizard. Caught up in the storm of emotions that clouded his mind, Armin practically jumped out of his skin when a hand grasped his shoulder.

“Ah!” Armin flipped his body around and landed on his ass, an arm raised defensively in front of him. To both his shock relief Jean stood over him with wide eyes. Jean’s hand hung in the air where Armin’s shoulder used to be.

“You okay? I didn’t mean to scare you…” Jean asked before a sudden realization crossed his mind. “I mean, as okay as you can be given the circumstances. I didn’t mean to- What I’m trying to say is-”

Armin blinked in surprise as Jean began to ramble. Seeing the normally composed hero flustered was an unexpected pleasure that got Armin giggling.

Jean stopped his words when he heard Armin’s laughter.

“Yes, now I am,” Armin replied, tears still streaking down his face. An intrusive thought crossed Armin’s mind and wiped the fragile smile form his face. “Why are you here though? Don’t you have some land and gold to claim?”

Jean’s expression became serious upon hearing those words. “You’re kidding me, right? I thought you were a genius or something.”

“They’re about to give you everything you ever wanted,” Armin stated, his eyes falling to the ground.   
“Adventurers do everything for wealth. You’re going to receive all of that and more from the king. Land, status, and probably have your pick of the maidens in Eldia… We have the finest people in the land. They have it I mean.”

Armin trembled when he spoke those bitter words.

“Yeah, but they don’t have you,” Jean countered, causing Armin to immediately face Jean. “You’re the one I rescued and in turn got rescued by, twice.”

“But I have nothing,” Armin frowned as his hopes started to rise.

“Bullshit. You have your wits and good head on your shoulders. Maybe you’re honest to a fault but that’s rare,” Jean shook his head. “Besides, you haven’t met Marco and that guy literally has nothing and we’re still best friends. Money doesn’t equal friendship.”

“I’m cursed,” Armin offered another excuse as Jean took a seat next to him.

“So am I, apparently,” Jean shrugged.

Armin’s stared into Jean’s amber eyes, trying to find any sign of disgust or disdain yet only found warmth. His gaze briefly fell to Jean’s lips, causing him to lick his own. A blush came to his cheeks when he realized Jean caught him staring. Leaning closer to Jean he whispered, “You could do so much better.”

A quiet chuckled from Jean sent the butterflies fluttering in Armin’s stomach.

“I doubt it,” Jean disagreed. He closed his eyes as the gap between them lessened. He went in for the kiss before a rude voice interrupted them.

“I doubt it too. Not many are dumb enough to suck a cursed dick,” Ymir stated loudly, causing Jean and Armin to butt heads. She laughed loudly at the accident she caused.

“What?” Jean asked rubbing his skull.

“Ymir!” Armin complained, also rubbing his head. “What’re you doing here?”

“Guarding my favorite princess,” Ymir pointed to Historia, who stood next to her pressing her hands to her mouth. The princess looked like she wanted to explode from joy.

“Armin! You found your hero!” Historia grinned widely, falling to her knees to embrace her childhood friend. “I’m so proud of you!”

“Historia? What’s going on?” Armin wondered, still puzzled by the pair’s sudden appearance.

“If my dad is going to be a stickler about the ancient customs and banish you I figure I’ tag along. I’m not letting you travel alone,” Historia hugged him tighter.

“And I’m not leaving her,” Ymir glanced at the smaller girl. “You have to the count of three to unhand my girlfriend.”

Armin let go before Ymir started the countdown.

Jean narrowed his eyes at the knight in the pearlescent armor. “You’re gonna have to go through me before you touch him.”

Armin’s mouth dropped at the threat.

Ymir did a once over of Jean before laughing again. “A skinny fuck like you? I’d break you in an instant.”

“Bring it, bitch,” Jean spat.

Ymir glared at Jean, who returned an equally venomous stare. After a few tense seconds she cracked a smile.

“Maybe you’re tougher than I thought. Protect the small fry, he deserves it.”

“I think so,” Jean nodded, turning his attention back to Armin. “But what the fuck did you mean he sucked a cursed dick?”

Armin’s face went crimson as Ymir howled with laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this, between my other story and life it's been hard to be somewhat consistent at getting these up. And no I haven't forgotten about the others. Next time we get to see what became of everyone :D
> 
> As always feedback is appreciated and treasured. Hope you all enjoyed!


	5. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armin and Jean go to find their friends, only to be confronted with an eerily familiar situation. Magics and gods collide with the pair caught in the middle.

“Seriously, it’s not a hard concept,” Jean shouted, pulling his sword out of a Marleyan soldier. The body crumpled to the ground as Jean turned to slice at another attacker. “What part about ‘quietly’ don’t you understand?”

A massive claymore cut through the shield of another soldier, splitting the armor and the man underneath it. Ymir kicked their body off her weapon while wearing a crazed smile.

“All of it. Where’s the fun in stealth?” Ymir rolled her eyes. She spun to slay another guard, successfully clearing the gate to Trost.

“Fun? I’m trying to liberate my hometown here!” Jean said.

“I get that but how exactly are you going to sneak into this,” Ymir gestured to the battlefield around them. The city guards fought the oncoming army, though they were trapped outside the gates. “Armin, your turn.”

Armin and Historia ran out from some nearby bushes and joined the two fighters. They averted their gaze from the dead bodies.

“I’ll try but I’m not Eren,” Armin stated. He ran a hand along the wooden gate debating the best approach.

“Thank the gods,” Jean muttered. He looked back over the field, still not seeing any signs of his friends. When Armin mentioned that an army marched on Jean’s hometown they made a beeline for it. Rumors of Jean’s companions among the Marleyan solders left Jean unsettled. They never returned from the castle but at least they were alive. Hopefully.

“Just use your mouth. Put that new magic to some use,” Ymir chuckled, causing Armin to blush. While Jean and him discovered some of their new abilities on their way to town, Armin still felt unsure about his skills.

Muttering an incantation, he touched his dragonbone bracelet and inhaled deeply. When he released the air in his lungs, a stream of fire flew forward. Flames pressed against the gate. Crackling wood sizzled until the fire breath seared through the gate. Armin closed his mouth, cutting off the spell. He burped out a tiny cloud of smoke, quickly placing a hand over his mouth.

“Perfect, great work,” Jean complimented him, clasping a hand on his shoulder. He gave him a peck on his cheek before running through the newly created hole.

Armin gingerly pressed a hand to his cheek until Ymir ran by.

“Let’s go, lover boy,” Ymir teased. She grabbed Armin by the arm and ran into the city.

Unlike the chaos outside the walls, the city remained intact and suspiciously untouched. The immediate streets around the entrance were deserted, though a bonfire glowed against the setting sun in the town center. With a destination ahead, the group ran forward.

As the group walked to the center, they noticed a large gathering of scared civilians. Jean tightened his hand around the hilt. To his surprise a patrol circled the civilians. Finally internalizing the concept, Ymir pointed to the shadows. They huddled behind objects and approached stealthily.

Jean gasped when he realized his friends patrolled the perimeter together with two of the warriors he met the night he rescued Armin. To his surprise he saw no other soldiers.

“Are you going to keep crawling around in the dark or will you join us?” A loud voice greeted them from behind. Jean’s eyes widened when he saw Eren leering over them. So much for stealthy approach.

The patrol at the center of the town stopped to stare at the commotion.

“Goddesses be damned,” Jean cursed, earning a scowl from Ymir.

“Eren?” Armin asked, peering into his friend’s eyes.

“Oh you came too, ‘Min? And you brought the princess. Perfect,” Eren gave a toothy smile.

Armin narrowed his eyes, muttering some words. A yellow spark popped from his fingers.

“What’s going on?” The tall blond brute with an axe shouted at Eren from the town center.

“Found some guests for the ritual.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Jean whispered to Armin, slowly getting to his feet.

“He’s under some sort of charm, a very powerful one at that,” Armin informed the group. “See that necklace he’s wearing? It’s acting as a conduit for the spell.”

Under the evening sun, the group saw a gem glinting around Eren’s neck.

Jean looked back at the group approaching them and took a headcount. “Blonde bitches 1 and 2, Connie, Sasha, and Mikasa. I think we can take them if the stories about you are true.”

Ymir scoffed at the notion, “Please, I’m so much more.”

“Armin, can you take Eren? I don’t see Marco but if he doesn’t show we’re good.”

Ymir quirked an eyebrow at Jean but didn’t say anything.

“Yeah, I know the extent of his abilities. Remove the conduits and the spell fails,” Armin reminded the warriors. “Theoretically.”

“Charge!” Jean shouted, catching the attention of the civilians in the plaza.

“Bold strategy, Jeanbo, let’s see how that works out for you,” Connie smirked, drawing two daggers. He sprinted towards his friend along with the blond man.

“You really think you can take us, Ymir?” Reiner taunted, keeping pace with Connie.

“Easily,” Ymir replied. To her surprise Jean ran ahead of her. “Hey!”

“That blond bastard is mine. Can you handle the girls?” Jean requested.

“Oi! Just because I’m-”

 

“It’s not that! I’ve seen their swordsmanship and they might kick my ass.”

“Oh,” Ymir’s anger changed to pride. “In that case, sure. What about the chick with the lute?”

At the end of the street, Sasha glared at the group while strumming on a lute.

“She’s moral support, don’t worry too much about her,” Jean advised. While Sasha’s music usually enhanced their skills, she wasn’t playing those songs at the moment.

“Pay attention or you’re gonna get smashed,” Reiner yelled at Jean, preparing to swing his axe at him. Before he could land the blow, Jean pulled a fist back. A purple light glowed under the sleeve of his jacket. He sent a punch into Reiner’s side, launching him upwards into the second floor of a nearby building with ease. “The hell-”

Connie tried to slow down, stunned by the impressive display of strength. Jean continued his charge and threw himself at Connie. He tackled his friend through a fruit cart, smashing him into a wall. Connie grunted from the pain, dropping his daggers.

“Sorry but you’re not leaving me much choice,” Jean apologized. He grabbed the necklace around Connie’s neck and pulled it over his head. He chucked the necklace down the street, sending it soaring out of the city. Glancing as his hand, Jean clenched his fist. He needed to get a grasp on his newfound strength.

Further up the street Armin and Eren circled each other.

“You really should join us ‘Min,” Eren extended a hand. “It feels so amazing to not hold back. I don’t have to hide my heritage anymore.”

Eren clenched his fist and a small ball of fire erupted upwards.

“You never had to in the first place,” Armin frowned. “This isn’t you.”

“What do you mean I didn’t have to? Those Eldian scumbags judged me every day! Don’t think I didn’t see them scorn us for just existing. We’re survivors, ‘Min! Come join us and we’ll help Marley end this century’s long war.”

“Never,” Armin declined, taking a deep breath.

“Then die!” Eren shouted, snapping a finger and sending flames towards Armin.

Acting on instinct, Armin released a powerful torrent of water from his mouth. It smothered Eren’s fire and stunned his friend. The rush of water swept Eren down the street and onto his ass. Not giving him a chance to recover Armin muttered another incantation. His tongue tickled and his hands glowed purple. A purple sheen surrounded Eren’s necklace. Armin waved his hands and the accessory flew off his childhood friend and smashed into a wall.

Turning his attention down the street, Armin’s eyes widened when he saw Ymir standing over the fallen bodies of Mikasa and Annie. Ymir stood triumphantly with a foot on the two girls while a girl with a lute strummed ferociously from a little further away.

Armin pointed a hand at Mikasa’s necklace, causing it to start emanating purple light. Rather than toss it, Armin pulled it hands apart and the jewelry ripped in half. Next he turned his attention to the necklace around the lute player’s neck. With a flick of the wrist the necklace flew into the night sky.

Sasha stopped her strumming, falling to her knees. She grabbed her head.

“Ow…” Sasha groaned.

“Woo, victory!” Ymir declared, flexing her arms as Historia ran up to hug her.

Jean helped Connie to the ground while Armin ran over to Eren. Both friends were knocked out but otherwise appeared normal.

Suddenly, a column of red energy erupted around the walls of the town, encasing the city.

“What the hell?” Jean glanced around the city.

Armin stood up, frantically spinning around. “No, no, no, no!”

“Armin? What’s going on?” Jean ran over to the panicking wizard.

“Bertholdt’s doing it again! This is what happened to Shinganshina!”

The blood drained from Jean’s face as adrenaline began to rush through his veins. He drew his blade and looked for the mage causing this trouble.

The sky changed from a menagerie of pinks and oranges to a solid crimson, the setting run replaced by three all too familiar moons.

“Godsdamnit,” Jean cursed. He flinched as a purple light glowed from his forearm where the dragon wounded him. When Armin recoiled from pain, Jean instinctively wrapped an arm around him. He noticed a similar purple glow coming from Armin’s mouth.

A loud roar echoed through the sky. Everyone looked upwards to see a massive dragon soaring. It circled the town center, slowly descending towards the civilians. On its back stood Bertholdt surveying the crowd below. He had someone sitting next to him.

“Reiner, Annie?” Bertholdt called out, trying to find his comrades.

“They’re a bit preoccupied,” Ymir shouted at him.

He squinted at her, tapping the dragon. It landed on a tower looming over the square.

“Ymir? I should’ve guessed,” Bertholdt sighed. Shaking his head, he frowned. “Oh, you brought the princess? Interesting but not entirely unwanted.”

“You son of a bitch!” Jean cursed loudly.

“Why, Bertl? Wasn’t Shinganshina enough?!” Armin joined the chorus of criticism.

Bertholdt’s eyes widened, his face tinging pink. “You two are alive? How? Actually never mind, at least you’re clothed this time.”

Armin’s anger faded into embarrassment.

Ymir paused to turn and give the boys an incredulous smile. “Clothed? Did you do more than suck-”

“Ymir, focus!” Jean interrupted.

“Oh, right. Reverse your spell Bertholdt and I won’t break you like a twig,” Ymir threatened. “Maybe an arm. But not your neck.”

“Very tempting,” Bertholdt shook his head. “How about I keep you all here and condemn you to your deaths instead?”

Bertholdt grabbed the body next to him and raised Marco over the plaza.

Jean’s blood ran cold. “Marco!”

Ymir’s cocky expression fell at the sight of the druid. “Oh shit.”

“You know, it took much longer than it should’ve to realize no ordinary druid could go toe to toe with me in magical combat,” Bertl began. “What really gave it away was when my specially crafted necklaces had absolutely no effect on him.”

“Drop the prissy druid and give up,” Ymir frowned.

Shooting Ymir a look of disbelief, Jean walked towards the plaza with Armin.

“I’m sure you’d want that Ymir, but not when I’m this close to fulfilling my contract,” Bertholdt smiled widely. “The seal is finally weak enough.”

Marco opened his tired eyes, briefly surveying the plaza. “Hey, Ymir…”

Even from below Jean could see his friend looked absolutely exhausted.

“What did you do to him?” Ymir asked, her voice a mixture of fear and confusion.

“Wore him out with a little help from Eren. Who knew he’d actually be useful for something besides blowing stuff up?” Bertl chuckled.

Ymir looked at Eren’s groaning body and then back to Marco.

“Jaeger? Really?” Ymir pinched the bridge of her nose. “You had two jobs, Marco. Two! And you failed both.”

“Sorry, Ymir,” Marco replied, offering a dopey smile.

“Commune with nature to maintain the seal and celibacy. How hard is that?”

Marco shrugged. “Living in forest for so long weakened my resolve.”

“I swear to me… it’s not that hard!”

Marco frowned slightly at Ymir. “What about you? The Eldian princess? Really?”

Ymir opened her mouth but no words came out. A dark blush hid her freckles.

Clearing his throat, Bertholdt brought the attention back to himself. He revealed a dagger and floated upwards with Marco. “As I was saying, I have a fallen goddess to bring back to the world. Fritz, if you would?”

Bertholdt plunged a dagger into Marco’s neck, causing Jean to reach out. “No!”

The dragon bellowed again, focusing its attention on the plaza.

“Toodles,” Bertholdt flew away with Marco’s bleeding body as the dragon climbed downwards.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Ymir muttered, her claymore suddenly vanishing. She bent down to kiss Historia on the lips. “Arlert, Kirschtein hold off the dragon. I need to stop Bertholdt before he ends the fucking world.”

In a move that surprised those watching, Ymir floated off the ground and flew off after Bertholdt.

Shock seized Jean’s muscles, still processing his best friend being murdered before his eyes.

“Jean… Jean!” Armin jostled Jean from his thoughts.

“I’m… I’m here,” Jean replied quietly. He swallowed a lump in his throat, gripping his blade. “I’m going to fucking murder him.”

“Me too,” Armin agreed, but looked at the dragon. “But we need to stop that thing first.”

Jean glared at the dragon, memories of the previous battle rushing forward.

While bigger than the last dragon, this one seemed to be in the same state of decay. Holes punctured the webbing in its wings, while rotten flesh exposed bones and ribs. Magic may have animated it but Jean and Armin were determined to return it to the ground.

“You still have that telekinesis spell?” Jean asked as the two walked towards the plaza.

Armin’s hands glowed brightly as he clenched his fist. “Yeah. What’s the plan? Please tell me you’re not going to get eaten again.”

“What? No,” Jean shook his head, laughing at the thought. “Throw some rubble and get its attention. I’m personally cutting its head off for attacking my town. Then I’m going to do the same to all the Marleyans who did the same starting with Bertholdt.”

Shrugging off Jean’s sudden bloodlust, Armin pointed to the broken food cart and threw it at the dragon.

The cart shattered against the beast’s scales, successfully lodging a few splinters into the mushy flesh. Turning its attention to the pair approaching it, the dragon opened its mouth. A noxious gas blew from its nostrils before a dark green, stream blasted towards Jean and Armin.

“Acid!” Armin shouted.

“Hold on!” Jean pulled Armin close and crouched. He held up his arm and the purple light turned white. In a bright flash an ethereal shield appeared in front of the pair. The acid slammed into the shield, hissing against the magic. Despite the powerful blast, the magic held. When the acid breath stopped, to the surprise of the citizens in the plaza, Jean and Armin were unharmed. The street surrounding them melted under the attack but they were fine.

“…did you know you could do that?” Armin whispered as the shield faded, a bit stunned by the sudden spell.

“Would you believe me if I said yes?” Jean pressed his lips together, trying to contain his nervous chuckle. When Armin shook his head he let his bravado fall. “No but I don’t know if I can do that again. We need to slay it fast.”

Jean held his blade forward, almost dropping it when he noticed it glowing blue.

Armin pulled out his dagger, noticing it had a similar reaction. “Of course, what better weapon to slay a dragon than dragonbone?”

“I don’t know,” Jean admitted. “But if this thing is good against it care to give me a boost?”

Armin nodded, holding his glowing hands forward. “Caution to the wind then.”

“Huh?” Jean said when his body glowed. He was thrust through the air towards the dragon. “Shit!”

The dragon opened its mouth to try and catch the flying target.

Jean held out his sword, déjà vu flooding his mind.

Armin lowered his hands so Jean avoided the attacked. Instead he maneuvered Jean beneath the dragon, his blade slicing the dragon from chin to belly. Armin ended the spell, sending Jean tumbling behind the undead beast.

The dragon roared as its acidic guts spilled into the streets. If it weren’t undead that might’ve been a fatal blow. Instead it turned to face Jean, leering down at him with hollow eyes. It slammed its tail into Jean.

“Oh hell no,” Jean grabbed the tail, successfully catching it. When the dragon tried to pull its tail back, it couldn’t break free of Jean’s grasp. “That isn’t happening again.”

Jean yanked the tail away from the dragon. To the surprise of everyone including himself, the dragon whipped around and into a nearby house. The tail detached from the dragon. Jean stared at his hands before dropping the disgusting appendage.

The dragon shook off the blow and barred its teeth at Jean. It snapped its mouth at Jean, who dropped his blade and caught the dragon’s bite. He grabbed its fangs to stop it from crunching him. The light from his wrist now glowed blue.

Jean looked down the throat of the undead dragon, flashbacks returning to him. This time though he smelled noxious fumes before a dark green stream seeped forward and shot out at him.

“Fuck me,” Jean yelled as acid rushed forward.

“No!” Armin screamed. His tongue prickled again and a dark purple light enveloped his hands. He pointed at the dragon, its entire frame glowing a dull purple. He pulled his hands backwards. The dragon slid back a few yards before getting stuck. “Give me Jean!”

Sweat slid down Armin’s forehead as he focused on an image of the dragon, his hatred and fear driving him forward. He pulled as hard as he could, the desire to save Jean spurring him on.

A loud tearing echoed around the plaza, muscle and sinew giving away under the strain of magic. With a mighty yank the dragon’s body flew back over Armin’s head and crashed into the street, sliding into the town gate. The head remained in place at the center of the town.

Armin ran forward, adrenaline driving him. He heard loud gasping from the plaza. As he arrived, he dropped to his knees. Exhaustion ran through his body as the magic around his hands faded. Historia knelt down by him.

“Armin…” Historia glanced over his body.

“Jean!” Armin called out, tears forming at the edges of his eyes.

“Yes?” Jean replied, stepping out from a noxious cloud in front of the dragon’s head. While shirtless, Jean otherwise looked unscathed. “Was that you who pulled on it? I thought it was trying to get away so I held onto the fangs.”

Armin’s face fell, disbelief written all over it. “You’re alive?!”

Jean looked over his body and shrugged. “Yup.”

Armin ran to Jean, embracing him as he held back his tears.

Suddenly, bright white light enveloped the town just as the red light did earlier. The citizens clung to each other as the ground rumbled and the sky changed from a crimson red to the familiar black. To Jean and Armin’s relief, the three moons faded into the starry night.

A brief purple light flashed over Annie’s body and from one of the wrecked houses, her body disappearing.

Another purple light flashed by the square, this time Ymir appearing with Marco’s body slung over her shoulder. She fell to her knees panting. Marco rolled off her.

“Marco!” Jean ran over to his friend, his heart stopping. He let his arms fall limply to his side.

“Yeah, don’t worry about me. I’m just peachy,” Ymir groaned from the ground. Historia quickly came to her side. “Hey, babe.”

Armin rushed over to Jean.

“H-how?” Jean mumbled.

“I’m… I’m good,” Marco offered a weak smile, passing out shortly after.

“Bullshit,” Ymir spat back, slumping over as exhaustion took hold.

\---

Fires crackled around Trost’s plaza as festive music filled the air. When Trost returned to the world, the invading army disappeared. Dead guards and civilians alike were mourned and buried. Not letting their sacrifice be in vain, the living celebrated Trost’s victory and its brave rescuers. While Ymir and Marco recovered under Historia’s constant supervision, Jean and Armin toasted with the civilians at the celebration.

“To the brave men and women who gave their lives so we may be here,” the mayor held up a mug of beer.

The citizens raised their glasses. “Here, here!”

Jean and Armin sat next to each other, mimicking the gesture. Jean began to down his drink while Armin sniffed the concoction. His nose wrinkled from the bitter smell.

“How can you stand to drink this?” Armin frowned, offering his cup to Jean.

Chuckling at Armin’s innocent reaction, he replied, “It’s an acquired taste. Not everyone is as picky as you.”

“I’m not picky!” Armin frowned, pulling his drink back. To prove his point he took a big gulp of the beer, his face immediately souring at the taste. “Yuck!”

“Told ya,” Jean rolled his eyes, sipping his drink.

The joyous music gradually faded and a slower tune began to play. Some people, mostly couples, stood up and walked to the square. They embraced each other and swayed to the somber tune.

Seeing an opportunity, Armin grabbed Jean by the arm and pulled him towards the plaza. “Come on!”

“Huh? Wait-” Jean barely set his beer down before he found himself pulled by a rather strong Armin. Did the bookish wizard actually workout?

Armin wrapped his arms around Jean’s neck and held him close.

Placing his hands on Armin’s hips, Jean tried to follow the rhythm of the song.

The boys eventually found the beat of the music, joining the others in swaying along. Rather than pay attention to those around them though, Jean and Armin focused on each other’s’ eyes. Warm amber peered into curious blue. Pressing their foreheads together, they smiled gently.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” Jean mumbled.

Armin pulled his head back, tilting it. “Huh?”

“I said you’re beautiful!” Jean tried again, getting drowned out by the music.

A puzzled smile came to Armin’s face. He shook his head, “I can’t hear you.”

“I said,” Jean took a deep breath just as the music faded. “You’re beautiful!”

Everyone in the plaza stopped what they were doing to look at the couple. Jean’s face flushed red as people he recognized stared at him, some smiling- others confused. Trying to hide his embarrassment, Jean buried his face in the crook of Armin’s neck.

Armin laughed at the reaction, pretending he wasn’t blushing furiously at the loud compliment. “You’re gorgeous too.”

“You bet he is,” a female voice agreed, its tone warm and sweet.

Armin looked for the source and found a tall but lanky woman approaching. She had long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail with a warm smile on her face.

Jean peeked out from Armin’s neck for a second before a shocked expression took hold. His eyes widened and he paled upon seeing the woman.

“M-m-m-mom?!”

“Welcome home, Jeanbo,” his mother opened her arms as she approached. She did a once over of Armin, causing the boy to stiffen. “And who is this handsome gentleman?”

The wry smile told Armin that Jean’s mom asked a rhetorical question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo familiar in-fighting. Sorry for the wait but I got caught up in con shenanigans and making a post-time skip Jean so that's the reason. The last chapters are finished up and I'll be uploading them soon. If you guys want to see the pics their on my [tumblr](http://firegrilled.com/%22).
> 
> As always feedback is appreciated and treasured. Hope you all enjoyed!


	6. Gods and Goddesses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After regrouping with everyone, Ymir and Marco make a confession while the group prepares for the final confrontation with Marley

“Congrats Marco, you condemned the world to hell just to get laid. I hope it was worth it,” Ymir glared at the druid, taking a large bite of the ham before her.

Marco’s face darkened while he quietly chewed on a salad. He swallowed and answered, “Yeah, it was.”

Eren hid his crimson face in his hands, exhaling a small puff of smoke.

Mikasa nibbled on her bread while patting Eren’s back.

“I can’t believe someone out-stupided Armin,” Ymir scoffed. She paused to think about it and laughed loudly. “At least that can still make me laugh.”

The mention of the story caused Armin to almost choke on some food. Connie, Sasha, Eren, Marco, and Mikasa all glanced at the shy wizard who saved them.

“Huh?” Connie asked the question on everyone’s mind.

“It’s nothing,” Jean stated harshly, killing the subject before it could evolve. “He saved my life just like he saved yours. We should really be thanking him.”

Connie and Sasha exchanged suspicious looks but didn’t say a word.

“About that. So we saved him and he saved us? I don’t like being duped but I guess we’re even,” Connie changed topics.

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re all handsomely rewarded for your troubles during Armin’s rescue,” Historia walked out of the kitchen with another set of plates. “Once Ymir and Marco are back to strength we can go home.”

Armin’s eyes fell at the mention of Eldia. He almost bucked when he felt a pair of hands squeeze his. The familiar touch soothed his nerves.

“Yeah, sorry about dozing off for a few weeks,” Marco apologized, polishing off his salad. “I feel much better.

“You’re sorry?” Ymir narrowed her eyes at Marco. He sheepishly looked at his clean plate. “I saved your ass. I teleported Trost back to this realm. What’s your excuse? You fucked Jaeger. Repeatedly.”

Eren groaned. “I said I was sorry!”

“You were under mind control, it’s okay,” Marco gingerly pat Eren on the back.

To Jean’s surprise, Eren leaned into the touch.

Just then, Mrs. Kirschtein returned with several bags of fruits and vegetables.

“My, my, you’re a hungry lot,” The older woman smiled at the group in her house. “I’m glad to see everyone is awake.”

“Thank you for the food, miss,” Marco bowed his head.

“Yeah, it’s very delicious!” Ymir agreed.

Jean’s mother set the fruits and vegetables down on the counter, walking over to the table. She wiped her hands on her apron as she looked over the group.

“I’ve met the others but I don’t think I know your names?” Mrs. Kirschtein questioned Marco and Ymir. “You slept for quite a while.”

“I’m Marco, a druid from the north,” Marco smiled, exuding warmth.

“And I’m Ymir, resident heroine and Eldia’s best knight,” Ymir grinned cockily.

“Like the goddess? Your parents must’ve been very devout,” Mrs. Kirschtein commented, returning to the vegetables.

“They were something like that,” Ymir chuckled along with Marco, both exchanging a knowing look.

Before the group could get into further discussion, the clanging of bells across town echoed into the house. Everyone stopped their eating and stared at Jean.

“Shit, we need to go. Now,” Jean gestured to the door. The others nodded and followed him out into the city. “Thanks mom!”

“Anytime, Jeanbo!”

Jean groaned as his friends cracked goofy smiles, none daring to laugh out loud. “Moooooom! I’m all grown up. Just call me Jean…”

His mother shook her head. “You’ll always be Jeanbo to me.”

Swatting his hand in the air, Jean exited his house and made his way for the plaza. He heard his friends trying- but failing- to hold in their laughter. Once they got far enough away from the house, the group started cackling at Jean’s expense.

“Jeanbo?” Eren spoke, wiping a tear away from his eye.

“Don’t you fucking start, Jaeger,” Jean pointed a finger at him. “Or do I need to remind whose ass is responsible for this?”

Everyone stared at the evening sky, their jovial mood fading. Among the stars and moon of the night sky, crimson bled around the horizon and gave the night an eerie atmosphere. Dusk had long since passed. 

“Low blow,” Eren frowned.

“Just like Armin,” Ymir broke out into another round of laughter.

Armin’s face tinted pink, earning confused looks from Eren and Mikasa.

“Seriously, what happened?”

“N-nothing,” Armin pressed his lips together.

Marco studied Armin for a moment and then observed Jean. His eyes met Jean’s for a moment but he didn’t speak.

Torches lit the plaza as citizens gathered around the raised platform usually reserved for the town crier. Standing atop the platform were two guards in white platemail along with the mayor of the city. When Jean and his friends approached the platform, Jean recognized one of the guards as Erwin from Eldia.

“Citizens, we have dire news,” the mayor began. “I’ll let these fine soldiers explain.”

“Thank you, sir,” Erwin nodded. Clearing his throat, he faced he crowd. “I must keep this brief. As many of you know the kingdom of Marley is the remnants of the empire of the fallen goddess Maria. Their one and only goal for the last thousand years has been her resurrection in hopes of returning to their former glory. Unfortunately that goal has been achieved. Either through sorcery or back magic they’ve revived her.”

A swift elbow into Marco’s side caused him to grunt. He turned to see Ymir glaring at him.

“Her army now marches for Eldia, the former home of her sister Ymir. She plans to destroy our city as revenge for Ymir. I come seeking aid for the oncoming battle.”

Loud murmuring arose from the crowd, the civilians debating amongst themselves.

“Now I know Trost is still licking its wounds from their last battle with Marley, but everyone here knows the fate that awaits those who Maria attacks. The fallen goddess won’t stop until she’s plunged the entire world into darkness and decay. We must stop her now! Who’s with me?”

“We are!” Eren shouted, causing everyone around them to face them.

Erwin quirked an eyebrow but smiled as he recognized the group.

“Eren, Mikasa, Ymir, and… Princess Historia? We’ve been looking for you for weeks,” Erwin chuckled. The news of the Eldian princess earned a few gasps.

“Ymir has been protecting me,” Historia shrugged, causing her girlfriend to flex an arm.

“Clearly. I also see you made some new friends,” Erwin glanced between Jean and his friends. His eyes fell on Armin, who he spotted shrinking behind Jean. “You even have Armin the White among you. Glad to see you’re in good health.”

Armin nodded but didn’t reply. Eren and Mikasa faced Armin, shock written in their expressions.

“You earned a title? And the White?” Eren muttered. “How and why didn’t you tell us?”

“He sucked-” Ymir began before Historia covered her mouth, much to Armin’s relief.

“He forsook land and country to save a life,” Erwin stated. “We’d be honored if you joined us in the battle.”

“Honored?” Armin replied, shocked by the proposition. “But…”

“Banished or not, we’re in no position to turn down willing allies. Especially dragonslayers,” Erwin pointed to the skeleton from their previous fight laying in plaza. “At least I suspect that was you and Jean.”

Armin nodded, feeling lightheaded at the offer to at least fight for Eldia. Perhaps it was a chance to redeem himself.

“I’ll do it!” Armin shouted, saluting Erwin.

The crowd roared at others mimicked Armin’s gesture.

\---

“You’re banished?” Eren asked again as the group gathered their belongings.

“Yes,” Armin muttered, his face a mixture of disappointment and embarrassment. “I didn’t want to worry you guys about it.”

“Its okay,” Mikasa spoke, embracing Armin. “We’ll go with you wherever you go. And you can tell us whenever you’re ready.”

Ymir snorted but a glare from Jean silenced her.

Marco stepped forward, grabbing Jean’s arm and pulling his sleeve down. He studied at the markings on Jean’s arm. Black runes wrapped around his arm while a shield with blue and white wings rested atop the wound from the dragon.

“Marco?” Jean mumbled, a bit concerned by Marco’s odd behavior.

The druid then walked over to Armin. “Please show me your tongue.”

Chewing on his lip for a moment before obliging, Armin stuck his tongue out for Marco.

Marco squinted at the seal, mumbling a few words. His eyes glowed a dull gold before widening. Turning back to Jean he stared at the seal. Bouncing between the two seals, Marco’s mouth fell.

“Are you okay?” Jean questioned.

“You… how… Ymir, he didn’t,” Marco looked to her for confirmation. She grinned widely.

“Now you’re catching on,” Ymir nodded. “Took ya long enough.”

A blush flashed across Marco’s cheeks. “But you know what this means, right?”

“Yup. We can actually kill her this time.”

“Kill who?” Jean gave Ymir a suspicious look, unsure about this conversation. “And how exactly do you two know each other?”

The two freckled people shook their heads.

“This dumbass is my brother,” Ymir admitted.

Jean glanced between the two. “Really? But he’s so much nicer than you…”

Ymir glared at Jean and shrugged.

“Ymir is nice,” Marco defended his sister. “She has everyone’s best interests at heart.”

“Yeah, underneath all her interests,” Jean rolled his eyes.

“Insult me one more time and I’ll tell everyone how your boyfriend earned his title,” Ymir threatened. “It’ll give a whole new meaning to Armin the White.”

“Ymir, stop,” Historia frowned, causing Ymir to scowl.

While Jean and Ymir continued to squint at each other, Armin approached Marco. He laid a shaky hand on his shoulder.

“You mentioned killing someone. Who?” Armin inquired, his blood going cold.

Marco glanced at Ymir, both nodding.

“When you saved Jean you unknowingly bound yourselves to Maria. Your powers are the direct result of hers,” Marco explained.

“What?!” Jean’s mouth fell.

“Technically, you’re her warriors,” Marco informed them, causing the rest of their friends to look at them nervously.

“But we can’t be. I mean, we just killed another of her dragons,” Jean balked at the thought.

“Yes but that’s the amazing part. You both still have your freewill. Unlike others that are bound by her beliefs and desires, you two can do as you please,” Marco explained while waving his hands around.

Armin bit his bottom lip, focusing his eyes on Jean’s seal. “You mean I undid her corruption? How?”

“Honestly I can only guess. There’s no necromantic energies in either of you two… just natural magics,” Marco stated as his eyes widened. “Wait. No.”

Ymir tilted her head for a moment. “Natural magics? The fuck does that mean?”

“Magic derived from plants and animals,” Marco answered, staring at his hands.

“But that’s your domain, not Maria’s,” Ymir frowned until a realization dawned on her. “No. Oh you’ve gotta be kidding me. They’re yours?”

Ymir rubbed her temples. “How? It’s her curse!”

“Yes, but we’re twins. Similar magics. It was always possible but I never thought we’d share servants,” Marco smiled, clapping his hands together. He started bouncing on his feet at the thought. “I have followers!”

Everyone besides the two freckled people exchanged confused glances.

“Can someone please explain what’s going on? You lost me when you mentioned Maria,” Connie crossed his arms.

Ymir sighed. “Short version: When Armin saved Jean by making those seals, he used Maria’s powers against itself. By doing that they got godly powers on accident. However they get their powers from two gods: Maria and her twin brother.”

Jean scrunched his face from confusion while Armin processed the thought.

“Maria has a twin brother?” Armin asked first.

Nodding, Ymir gestured to Marco. “Meet Maria’s completely forgettable and unassuming twin. Also your god. Congrats, you’re his first actual servants.”

“Hey!” Marco punched her shoulder. Rather than dwell on the insults, Marco stepped forward and hugged the two boys with seals. “I can’t believe I have followers!”

Everyone froze from shock as they processed that information.

“M-Marco is a god?” Jean managed to speak.

“Your god,” Ymir snickered.

“But if he’s your brother… then you’re also…” Jean paled at the thought.

“Yup!” Ymir cackled. “The one and only Ymir! Take it in mortals.”

Jean muttered a few curses while Armin continued to piece the information together in his head.

Historia stepped forward, falling to her knees. “My goddess.”

To Jean’s surprise, Ymir scowled at the sight. “Get up, Historia. I have no interest in people worshipping me just like my idiot brother. Besides, I’m the only one who gets to see you on your knees.”

The group fell silent, everyone’s face blushing red. Even Historia felt embarrassment and shame creep up her back.

“But, what does that have to do with killing anyone?” Armin wondered, circling back to the original topic.

Marco and Ymir smiled, letting out sighs of relief. Marco continued to explain, “Only one’s own power can kill a god or goddess. Servants use fractions of their god’s powers. This is why we’re not so gung-ho about making contracts with every little person. However, the more one shares power the more influence they wield and the stronger they become in turn. That’s why Maria imbued her power into a curse. She never expected anyone to be smart enough or talented enough to undo it though.”

“Which means what?” Connie interjected again.

Ymir grinned widely, “Meaning Jean and Armin can kill a goddess. Or Marco. Whichever they prefer.”

Marco’s face whitened at the thought. “Please don’t!”

“Never!” Jean vehemently shook his head at the thought.

Ymir laughed at her brother’s expense. As the others began to understand what was explained to them, they heard her comment. “This is so fucking hilarious.”

“How? The world is on the brink of ending,” Historia asked.

“Yes but if this works the legends will be so great,” Ymir relished the through, earning a suspicious stare from Jean. “To think, a cursed blowjob might save the world.”

“A cursed what?!” Eren shouted, causing Armin to turn as crimson as the sky.  
\---

“Ready to kill a goddess?” Jean asked, joining Armin on the hill overlooking the capital of Eldia.

Dawn painting the sky a mix of pinks, reds, and purples, shining down on the pristine white marble walls of Mitras. The color sunrise stood in direct contrast to the storm cloud that crackled with lightning just a little bit away on the mountains. The clanging of weapons and armor provided the ambience for the tragic sight before Jean and Armin. Countless men descended from the mountains into the plains in front of Mitras, slamming into the guards and soldiers of the city.

“It’s not like plunging a sword into her will destroy her,” Armin replied. He clenched a fist as he recalled the tomes from his grandfather’s personal library. A library in the unsuspecting city below. “Destroying her requires destroying her physical form and then her power.”

“So I kill her and then you do your wizardy stuff and really kill her. Easy,” Jean shrugged. He hooked an arm around his boyfriend’s neck, pulling him close. “We got this.”

Back at the tree line, Marco and Ymir watch the couple.

“You know what’s going to happen if we kill Maria, right?” Ymir said, her voice low and serious.

Marco nodded, frowning, “Yeah. I’ll have to be quick.”

“Good. Because they don’t deserve the same fate as Maria’s followers,” Ymir sighed, placing a hand on Marco’s shoulder. “They’re both too good for that.”

“They didn’t ask for it but they’ll have no choice. I hope you’re ready to upset the balance of the world,” Marco straightened up, cracking a few bones as he turned to return to the rest of the party.

Ymir glanced at Jean and Armin one last time before joining her brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that took a while to get out there but the following part isn't too far behind! Hope you guys enjoy the fun fantasy and aren't too lost :)

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution to Jearmin week, but instead of several separate stories we got one long fun fantasy AU! I've been posting daily so the other parts are going to be coming in. Please let me know what you think and I hope you have fun reading it!


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